Chocolate Cake

My grandmother was a fabulous cook. When I was little, she knew that all the kids in my family loved bread. Whenever we came to visit, she would have loaves of homemade bread for us. And we'd sit around and eat them, and eat them, and eat them. I never thought about how much work she did to be sure there was always bread for us whenever we came. Grandma took particular care to make things that people liked. If you told her you liked some food, she made sure you got it at her house, regularly. One of my cousins famously enjoyed Starbursts, and knew just where Grandma kept a special stash just for him. Similarly, if you didn't like something (or just didn't eat much of it on some occasion), she took note and it was never served to you again at her house. She showed her love in many ways, but one of the most tangible was by food. This made my grandfather (who was blessed with a wonderful metabolism) a very happy man.

Beyond the homemade bread, I'm actually not certain what my special, preferred foods at Grandma's house were. I always had great food there, but there wasn't anything in particular that I expected upon my arrival. I wish I knew what she made for me. My oblivion changed, however when I came home to visit from law school. It was my Spring Break and I actually went straight to her house from the airport because she and my mom were working on a quilt for my upcoming wedding. Uncle Mike was in town, so there was chocolate cake. Apparently that's one of his staples, so she made sure he got cake when he stayed with them (which he did at least one week per month). Grandma offered me a piece and I informed her that I would never turn down chocolate cake, as it is one of my favorite foods. I had some cake, we chatted for a while, and I went home.

Three days later, I stopped in at my grandparents' house again. I was checking out a photographer in the area and wanted to say hi. When I got there, I discovered that Grandma had made another whole chocolate cake, just for me. She gave me a generous piece while I was there and sent me home with at least a third of the cake in a container to enjoy for the rest of my trip. Like I said, when she knew what you liked, she made sure to provide. And I'll admit to being happy to enjoy the cake, since it is a favorite of mine.

The next afternoon, I got a call that Grandma was on her way to the hospital. She had had a heart attack and passed away that day. Little did I know that my brief visit the day before would be my last with her. I took great comfort in jealously protecting and slowly consuming the rest of my cake over the next several days. I was so sad, but knew in a very tangible way how much my grandmother loved me.

And now, whenever I make chocolate cake, I think of my grandma. I made it for Virginia on her second birthday, which was the day after Mother's Day and right in the middle of James's prelims and basically not on a very convenient day for anyone. But I let her stay up late and made her a chocolate cake because it was important to me to express my love for her in that way. I made it for a close friend's birthday, even though it was a few weeks after the birthday, because I wanted her to know how much I care. And I made chocolate cake for my sister's birthday last summer, despite being tired and pregnant and husbandless for a few weeks. Because she loves chocolate cake as much as I do, and I love her.

So, if I ever make you eat chocolate cake with me, know that it's because I care. I'm passing along a legacy from my grandma and I'm trying to tell you that I love you. Or, at the very least, you'll know that I needed to feel loved and now I need someone to save me from consuming all those calories!